Through the escape, Celine found herself deep into the thick forest. Her breath came in sharp gasps as she staggered forward. Her legs screamed in protest with every heavy step. Every movement felt labored and slow as she fought to move faster.
The forest was dark and wild. The thick undergrowth clawed at her arms. Branches and vines tore at her skin like rough, skeletal fingers. It felt as if the very forest was trying to hold her back. The trees and bushes whispered warnings. Stopping was not an option, for stopping meant death.
